Don't dare calling me selfish bastard after this
by Jackline
Summary: Takes place directly after Crossroad Blues. Sam is angry. Dean is frustrated. DISCONTINUED.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I don't own Supernatural. Unfortunately.

_This is my first attempt at Supernatural fic. I am not asking you to be nice. But… Well… Please, be reasonable when you decide to flame me. _

"When you were trapping that demon, you weren't... I mean, it was all a trick, right? You never considered actually making that deal, right?"

Dean didn't answer but instead turn the radio on full volume. Sam flinched and clenched his teeth. If there was one thing that he hated about his brother, it was his absolute confidence in his right to do whatever he considered reasonable to do with his life. Whatever he thought was good for his family. For Sam. For Dad. However, the main words here were "_he_" and "_thought_".

Sam turned the radio off and said slowly and distinctly: "Don't. You. Ever. Dare. Calling. _Me._ Selfish. Bastard. After. This." Dean stared at him in utter confusion and disbelief. But Sam just turned the radio on again, leaned on the seat, and closed his eyes.

The road was silent after that with Sam pretending to sleep and Dean pretending to listen to music. It was a couple of hours later when Dean stopped the car near a motel. Sam opened the door and with the words "I'll check us in" left the car. Dean frowned, torn between irritation in concern. Never before had he seen Sam in such a mood. No. He had seen Sam angry, frustrated, irritated… What was happening now was more of a cold fury than of Sam's usual anger at Dean. Finally deciding that "it will pass," Dean left the car as well. Sam came returned a couple of minutes later.

"We are in the Room 14", he said stiffly, retrieving his bag and his laptop from the car.

"Sammy… I…" started Dean, needing to have some sort of a conversation with Sam, to make sure that everything was OK between them.

Apparently, it wasn't because Sam coldly cut him off: "It's Sam. How many times do I have to tell you?"

He went to their room without giving Dean a chance to react. Dean let out a frustrated sight. That was a low blow. It was for the first time since their Father's death that Sam asked Dean not to call him Sammy. And it hurt Dean more than he wanted to admit even to himself.

"Dude! That's not funny! What got into you?" Dean asked entering the room. He still hoped to turn it all into a joke.

Sam just shrugged "Nothing. I'll take the show first, if you don't mind."

"I do mind, Sam," Dean wanted to shout.

"I know you are angry with me. I know you'll never understand how I fill! It's me who should have stayed dead! Not you! But I didn't take the deal! Isn't that enough for you?!" But he just shook his head and let Sam go to the bathroom.

Sam emerged from the bathroom fifteen minutes late, drying his hair with the towel. Dean was flipping through the channels. "I really I hope you left me some hot water, Sam." He said as nonchalantly as he could.

"Think I did" Sam replied.

There didn't seem to be any anger in his voice, suppressed or not, and Dean risked a question.

"Are we… Are we okay, Sammy?" he asked looking at his brother intently.

Sam looked at him thoughtfully as if deciding whether they really were okay. Then he sight: "Yes, Dean. We are. But it's Sam."

TBC


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: I own nothing

It has been going for almost two weeks now and Dean was seriously getting tired of that. He was starting to think that an angry Sam was better than this Sam. And a worried Sam was better. Hell, to think of it… Even a ready-for-a-chick-flick-moment Sam was okay compared to this new Sam. Dean had always thought that he knew his little brother fairly well. Not that Sam had never surprised him before. Sure, he did. But never as much as he did this time.

For the past two weeks, since they have dealt with crossroads demon, to be precise, Sam was acting differently. At first, Dean thought that his brother was possessed. Well, after saying 'Cristo' at least three times and receiving in return confused looks from his brother, Dean decided that possession was not the case. Two days without any attempt from Sam to kill him or any other innocent creature seemed to confirm Dean's decision. Fortunately, Sam wasn't possessed by anything. However, at this point Dean was seriously debating whether it was fortunate or unfortunate. He knew how to deal with demons but he didn't seem to be capable of dealing with Sam's moods. Now, after a week you can't call this craziness "moods", right?!

After crossroads' job his nice, caring, devoted brother transformed into a complete stranger. Yes, he was still doing research for their job, still found them new things to hunt but he was acting differently. He no longer laughed at Dean's joke or did it only half-heartedly. He no longer engaged in conversations with Dean. All interaction between brothers was minimized to discussion of the thing they hunted. Sam stopped commenting on Dean's ways of making money. Or his one-night stands for the matter. Not to mention the fact that Sam was more than ever before against Dean's attempts to call him Sammy.All in all, Sam was acting like they barely new each other, like they were colleagues who work together but aren't friends.

Sometimes Dean just wanted to get hold of his brother, shake him and shout "what the hell id going on with you?!". But he didn't dare. Something told him that it wasn't a good idea. Not right now, anyway. Dean understood that this change had something to do with him not answering Sam's question about the deal. But they've discussed it. Well, sort of, anyway. And Sam said that they were okay. Yeah, said a voice in Dean's head, and he also told you not to call him Sammy. Even such a fool like you should have realised that nothing was okay.

"Shut up!!!" – Dean shouted.

"I wasn't talking, Dean", a voice said from Sam's bed. They were in the motel, Sam looking for some new information about a spirit they were hunting and Dean lying on the bed, thinking.

"I didn't mean you, Sammy…er… Sam", Dean hastily corrected himself. "Just a voice in my head".

Sam gave him an incredulous look as if saying "You hear voices now? I thought I was the only one with the visions" but said nothing and turned back to his laptop.

Say something, Sammy. Please, Dean was thinking. But Sam remained silent until he decided he wanted to share some new information about their hunt. Which was two hours later.

Dean closed his eyes fighting back tears. This all was even worse than Sam leaving to Stanford. Sam not answering his calls. Sam never calling himself. But that time Dean at least new why Sam was doing that. He didn't know now.

Sam was shutting him out. Completely. Although, being physically present, he wasn't with Dean. Not at all.

Hell, I need my brother to come back. I can't do it if he is not with me. It's tough enough even when he _is _with me. It's just impossible, it's unbeareble when he is not…

TBC

_Please, review! Even if to say that it's all completely out of character and doesn't fit in…_

_**Annon.** – Well, I think that Dean calls Sam "Sammy" when he is very worried about him (especially, if Sam was in some danger) or when he needs to feel that he is a big brother, that he has a family. I think that in the first series of the second season, he was so messed up, so desperately wanted to hold on to something, so sure that he had to keep "game face" for Sam's sake… And the only thing that he had to hold on to was Sam but he also couldn't (or thought he couldn't, more likely) tell Sam anything that he held to his big brother duties and his image of his baby brother whom he had to protect. And all this was expressed by him calling Sam "Sammy", it was especially obvious in 2.03 as it seems to me. And Sam seemed to understand Dean's inner turmoil as well cause he was much less against being called that. Well, that's my point of view, anyway. Sorry to bother you with this…er…. narrative._


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

For the past ten minutes Sam has been talking about their hunt but Dean could take no more of that indifferent professional tone. It was literally killing him. He was tired of detachment, tired of feeling completely, utterly alone, tired of Sam pretending that everything is as it should be, tired of tiptoeing around Sam these days, tired of being afraid every night that Sam will be gone for good in the morning, tired of the burden that Dad's last words had put on him, tired of… He had to stop it. Stop it right now.

"Sam! Mind telling me what was going in that crazy head of yours for the past two weeks?" he finally snapped, before he had time to change his mind.

Sam turn his head from his laptop towards Dean and frowned: "What are you talking about, Dean?"

"Sam, don't give me this confused look! You know much better than I do that something's wrong. And you know what it is! While I don't! So just spill out cause I'm really tired of you behavior!" Dean almost shouted. It was a rare situation when it was Dean who was trying to coax his brother to tell him what was bothering him. Usually it happened the other way round.

Sam shook his had and shrugged: "Dean, I told you everything's okay. I have nothing to tell you. So, please just calm down".

But he wasn't looking Dean in the eyes. If anything, he was avoiding looking at Dean at all. His eyes were jumping from his laptop to the walls to the TV. He was looking at anything but Dean.

"Sam, look at me!" Dean commanded.

Sam sight but pursed his lips and looked straight in Dean's eyes. And Dean was taken aback by what he saw there. Anger, desperation, fear, tiredness. When was the last time we locked gazes? Dean asked himself, wearily. Whenever it have been, there was nothing compared to all these in Sam's eyes. He might have seen pain then. And worry. But not this horrible mixtures of different pains.

"Sam," Dean almost whispered. What's up? Why are you so angry at me?"

Sam looked away, sight and bit on his lower lip: "Dean. I am not angry. Not at you, anyway".

"Yeah, and that's way you've been acting like I am some annoying guy in college, Sam. Like, you know, you were assigned to work with him. But you don't really know him or want to know. Are you so tired of me, Sammy?!" – Dean spat angrily, momentarily forgetting about Sam's attitude towards his nickname.

"_I am _not tired of you, Dean," – surprisingly, Sam let his nickname slide for now. "But you seem to be tired of me. Judging by the way you've been acting recently."

"What the hell are you talking about?" Dean looked at his brother in disbelieve. He could never get tired of his brother. _Never. _No matter how annoying, selfish or too clever his brother was, he could never get tired of him, not really.

"Well, you are doing a great job of showing it, Dean!"

Realization dawned on him. Or he thought it did. "Sam, I didn't make deal with that demon! There is nothing to be angry about!"

"Yeah, you didn't. Thanks for that, at least." Sam laughed bitterly. "But I know that you considered the possibility. No. Don't interrupt me! You did. Don't lie to me. You answered my question well enough then. But… But tell me… How can I be sure that you won't take the deal later?

"Sam…" Dean tried to stop him but Sam kept talking.

"You know, some other demon. Some other _type _of deal. And you'll leave me. And there will be nothing I will be able to do. Nothing I will say will stop you. Nothing I will do will stop you. Cause no matter what I say or do, no matter how I try to help you, you shut me out, shove me away, put this smiling mask of yours on and pretend that everything's fine! When I know that it's a bunch of crap!"

Oh no… They were getting there again. Dean was in no state to survive a chick-flick moment with dignity right now.

"But it's obvious that you don't want my help, do you? You just want to get yourself killed or let pain and guilt eat you!" Sam was crying now and didn't even try to stop the tears.

"No, Sammy!" Dean managed to say.

"No? But that's exactly what you are doing. And I don't seem to be able to help. And that's why I am angry. Cause I just don't see a way to help. But I can't watch you do this to yourself as well. May be I am a coward but I can't."

Right. Now he will tell me that he is leaving me. I would let him go, even though I know that it would kill me. I would. If Dad hasn't told me to protect Sam and save him. I can't let him go. No! No!

"So, I can't help you. And I can't watch you destruct yourself. So I just thought that may be, just may be I could detach myself. You know, pretend as if I don't care. May be I will even believe in it, some day" Sam let out a frustrated pained sort of laughter.

Dean just stared at his brother, shocked and confused. He had expected something like: "Open up, Dean. We'll figure something out, Dean. Let me help you cause I am your brother, Dean. You don't need me, Dean, so I am leaving". But this was something absolutely knew. Dean just had trouble understanding that this stupid crossroads demon had triggered all this turmoil in Sam's head. And there was nothing Dean could tell his brother without loosing it completely, without crying or sounding clingy or needy.

"But the problem is, Dean, that I _can't _stop caring. I can't stop worrying. Even if you don't need me. I simply can't. I am sorry," Sam whispered. Then he got up, absently dried tears from his face and made his way to the door.

"Where the hell are you going, Sam?" Dean demanded angrily, doing all he could not to sound frightened or upset. Unfortunately, he succeeded in that. If Sam looked back at his brother, he would have seen tears in his eyes. Unfortunately, he didn't look at Dean.

"For a walk. I'll be back. Don't worry, I won't take Impala and run away in it. Keys are on the table, by the way," - with that Sam left the room, leaving Dean alone and on the verge of tears. He won't run away in Impala, he said. But he didn't say that he won't run away at all. Well, he said he'll be back. He didn't say when, though. Dean's eyes frantically searched for Sam's bag. It was still near Sam's bed as well as his laptop on it. He won't leave without his laptop. Sure, he won't, Dean told himself sternly.

He lied down on the bed and closed his eyes. He didn't have any strength to run after Sam and talk to him, shout at him, beat this crap he was thinking about Dean out of him…He was exhausted. Emotionally drained by Dad's death, these last two weeks and Sam's confession. He did all he could to stop tears from escaping. But this time he didn't succeed.

_Review, please, review!!!_


	4. Chapter 4

Disclaimer: I don't own Supernatural

It was dark. And cold. God, so cold… He didn't know for how long Sam has been gone. He didn't know for how long he has been crying. He didn't know when his tears, though it was more like hysterical cries and sobs, have subsided and have been replaced with shivers and tremors. He was shaking and trembling and unable to do anything to stop it. He didn't have any strength left. He even couldn't crawl under a blanket because he couldn't get up, couldn't move at all.

It was dark outside. Sam should have been gone for a few hours now. He is not coming back, a voice was talking in Dean's head again. He is not. He left you cause he thinks that you don't want him or need him. And you were so stubborn that you didn't tell him how far from the truth he thoughts were.

Why? Why is it so cold? Why can't I get warm? "Stop!" Dean tried to shout but only a whisper came out. He was exhausted and no one was there to help him.

A door cracked open. Dean's hand instinctively went to the handle of the knife under his pillow but despite the fact that his wasn't thinking clear, he somehow felt that he won't be able to fight anyone right now. So, he could just let go of the knife and let anyone who came in do whatever he wanted with him. May be, he or she will just kill him and will no longer be so cold. And he will no longer have to wait for Sam's return.

"Dean? You're asleep?" a voice asked coming to his bed.

"Sammy…," he whispered, cursing himself cause his voice sounded so pathetic and weak.

"Yeah… It's me…," Sam said quietly, switching on the lamp on the table near the bed.

Dean winced when the light hit him and that's why he missed expression of utter disbelief that crossed Sam's face.

Sam saw the Dean's eyes were reddish and that his pillow was _wet_. Yes, wet. He even reached over and touched it, just to make sure. And that's when he went from disbelief into shock. He placed a hand on his brother's forehead.

"Dean! You're burning up! What happened?!" he exclaimed not quiet understanding what happened during his absence and what was happening now.

And that's when Dean finally understood that his brother came back after all. May be, if he wasn't shaking, if he didn't feel so cold and lonely, if didn't have such a high fever, he could have stop himself from doing what he did… But… His hands went towards Sam's wrists and clutched them. _What are you doing???! Stop! Stop! You can't let yourself be weak! No!_

"Sammy… Don't leave me… Please, don't… Don't leave me," he was clutching Sam's wrists.

"Hey, Dean," Sam said gently. "I am here. I am not leaving. I am… I am sorry… I…"

But Dean was clutching on his hands and muttering the same words. Sam inwardly sight. He didn't need to be a genius to understand that Dean was delirious or almost delirious. Otherwise, he would never have behaved like that. He didn't know how high his temperature was and, frankly, didn't want, or rather was afraid, to find out. He needed to get it down, though. He didn't fully understand what triggered it, though he made a guess that it had something to do with stress and emotional breakdown. Dean had no injuries right now and he couldn't have developed a cold in three hours that Sam was out. So, stress was the only option left, really. Sam felt a pang of guilt cause he knew that at least partly it was his doing. He had involuntary added weight on his brothers shoulders. But he made himself calm down. He had to make things right. Or, at least, less wrong. Starting with Dean's fever.

But, firstly, he had to retrieve his hands from Dean's clutches. No matter how weak with fever Dean was, he had a deadly grip on Sam's wrists. And wasn't about to let go.

"Dean, please, let go," Sam tried in his most calming and soothing voice.

"No, Sammy, please… Don't… Don't," again, Dean heard how pitiful and weak he sounded but could do nothing to control himself. Sam had to stay. He couldn't leave. Couldn't…

"Shhh… Dean… I am not going anywhere. I just have to get our first aid kit. You have a fever… You…" Sam cut himself, understanding that Dean wasn't hearing any of his words. There was only one option left. And Sam didn't like it at all.

"Dean," he said as sternly as he could in the circumstances. "Dean, let go! Or I am leaving. Right now! Dean!"

He hated to see the look of pain on despair that came to Dean's face. But he let Sam go. "Sammy… Please… Please…," he just muttered and Sam saw tears running down his cheeks.

"Dean, I am still here. I am not leaving. I promise," Sam whispered, sure that Dean didn't hear him.

As quickly as he could, he left to find their first aid kit and a couple of minutes later returned with two pills and a glass of water.

"Come on, Dean. You have to take these," he said softly.

With shaking hands, without arguing, which in itself wasn't a good sign, Dean swallowed pills and reached for the glass with shaking hand.

Sam shook his head and pressed one hand behind Dean's head and placed a glass to his lips.

When Sam placed the glass on the nightstand, Dean's hand immediately went to Sam's and squeezed it. Sam sight. He knew that there was no way that Dean would let him go now. He Retrieved a blanket from his bed, without trying to free his hand, and covered Dean with it.

"Dean, move an inch," he whispered. It pained him how easily and brokenly Dean obliged. Sam lied down beside Dean whose hands now moved from Sam's hand to Sam's T-shirt and clutched on it instead. He was silent now, though still shaking and crying. He placed his head on Sam's chest. Sam started stroking his hair with one hand and his back with the other.

"It's okay, Dean. I am not leaving. I am staying. I am here," Sam was whispering. After at least a half an hour tremors stopped and Dean started drifting to sleep.

Sam sight, still stroking Dean's hair. He was still warm but his temperature was clearly going down. Which confirmed Sam's idea about stress.

He closed his eyes and started to drift to sleep as well, hoping that he will be the first to wake up in the morning. Otherwise, he just couldn't imagine how frightened and embarrassed Dean would fill, if he woke up in Sam's embrace next morning. With this thought Sam let sleep overcome him.

_I really hope that it wasn't cliché. I tried for it not to be. Really._

_Now. I have a couple of questions._

_Who do you want to wake up first: Dean or Sam?_

_Do you want me to finish this story in the next chapter or to continue further, may be draw them in a hunt or something?_

_Thanks for reading! And for reviewing!_


	5. Chapter 5

Disclaimer: I don't own Supernatural

_**kits** – Thanks!_

_**Anon **– Yeah. I absolutely agree with you. Sam is not whiny or bratty on the show. He is just more open about his feelings than Dean. But Sam's devoted to Dean and does all he can to help Dean when necessary, and that's obvious as it seems to me. But it's natural that there are other opinions. By the way, are you the same Annon who was my first reviewer or not? a bit frustrated and confused because of anonymous reviews_

_**Sarah **– I am sure that you know what you are talking about. And thanks for taking you time to mention it to me. But my personal experience tells me that stress (or you may call it nervous state, hysterical state because of stress, whatever) can cause temperature. _

_I am glad that those who reviewed had the same opinion as I did about who should wake first!_

Dean woke up with a blistering headache. He opened one eye and regretted it cause sun was shying brightly and the sunlight was falling on his face. He reached over to cover his head with a pillow and felt that whatever his head was resting on it wasn't a pillow at all… Confused, he forced himself to open both eyes. He was horrified by what he saw. His head was lying on Sam's chest!!! Dean opened his mouth to say something harsh or angry but before he could say a word the events of last night came rushing to him filling him with embarrassment, shame and guilt. He vaguely remembered crying. clutching on Sam's arms, saying stupid things and not just _initiating _a chick-flick moment but _being _a chick-flick moment himself. No matter how stupid and ridiculous it sounded, it was exactly what had happened yesterday.

Thanking God for the small mercy of Sam still being asleep, Dean entangled himself from the blanket and from Sam's arms and hastily retreated to the bathroom. He shut the door and draw in a shuddering breath. He felt horrible. Now, when he was more awake, he was remembering things better and those memories where literally killing him. _He _was the big brother. _He _was the protector. _He _was supposed to save Sammy. But what happened yesterday was exactly the opposite. Roles were reversed or, rather, turned upside down. What was much worse – Dean had enjoyed it. He had enjoyed the feeling of being protected, the feeling of Sam taking care of him. Damn! He had even enjoyed Sam hugging him and saying that it was okay and that he wasn't leaving! He had only calmed down when Sam had lied in the bed with him!

Suddenly he remembered the words he had told Sam soon after their Dad's death.

_You know what? You're right. Come here. I'm gonna lay my head gently on your shoulder. Maybe we can cry, hug, and maybe even slow dance._

He said those words sarcastically and angrily. But it was the truth. Well, may be, without the slow dance part. At that moment he had wanted nothing more than to place his head on Sam's shoulder and cry, cry until that horrible pain was gone. Until he no longer felt like his head and heart could explode any moment from the burden Dad had placed on him. But he didn't let himself do that. Winchesters weren't crying and hugging. No! Especially, the big brother who had to be strong for his little brother. He knew that had failed in that more than once. When he has smashed the Impala. When he had killed that vampire. When he had had a go at an innocent man who had lost his daughter. When… Dean felt tears running down his cheeks and ordered himself to stop. Stop thinking. Stop crying. Stop breaking down. Enough was enough. He succeeded. Not immediately but he did.

Then he took a show, at the same time deciding how to face Sam after last night. First. he had to convince Sam that he _wasn't _suicidal and wasn't planning to make any deals with the demons in any near future.. It will take some time. But that's relatively easy, really. Second, he had to avoid talking about last night but at the same time make Sam know that he appreciated what Sam did for him yesterday. Well, that was a bit tricky. What else?… Oh! Yes. Third, stay calm and not start crying like a baby again. Brilliant! That should have been the easiest part…. Only that it wasn't…

With a deep breath Dean left the bathroom.

_Sorry, I know it was short but I wanted to separate Dean's thoughts from everything else. I hope you liked it, though._

_Thanks for reading! Now, please, review and let me know what you think!_


	6. Chapter 6

Disclaimer: I don't own Supernatural.

Sam was awake when Dean emerged from the bathroom. Well, to be completely honest, he woke up when Dean was getting up. He just pretended to be asleep for Dean's sake. He purposefully didn't call for Dean or ask his brother if he was okay. He understood that Dean needed to gain his composure and to put his brave face on. And although Sam knew what was under this mask, had always known, he also knew that he couldn't push Dean too far and too fast. Just one wrong move – and Dean will break down completely. And Sam wasn't so sure that he will be able to pick up the peaces.

"Hey, Sammy? You're awake?" Dean said in a cheerful tone, _almost _his usual cheerful tone.

"Yep. Did you bring me breakfast?" Sam smoothly played along, trying hard not to scrutinize Dean with his gaze.

"You're big enough to get your breakfast yourself, Sammy. And, anyway, it's your duty to bring breakfast to your big brother!" came a teasing reply and Sam laughed, almost sincerely.

He got up. "Well, you may go and get us breakfast now. Or wait for me to get it after I take a _long _shower!"

"Fine" Dean grumbled. "I'll bring you breakfast. But only today".

Sam shook his head and moved towards the bathroom. If bringing breakfast was a way of saying 'thank you' from Dean and forgiving Sam for his behaviour… Well… It was surely better than nothing.

"Sammy?"

"Yeah?"

"Look. About yesterday… I…"

"Forget it Dean…" Sam cut him off.

"No. Wait. I need you to understand…"

"Dean… There is nothing to talk about here…"

"I don't want to talk. I need you to understand. So, shut the hell up and let me utter at least one full sentence!" Dean cut in irritably.

Sam sight but didn't say anything.

"Sam, I am _not _suicidal or in any way prone to making deals with any kind of demons any time soon. Do you get it?"

Sam shook his head again: "Are you giving me an _order_ to understand that, Dean?" This was said in a light tone but hit Dean hard anyway. Sam hated orders, no matter whom they were coming from: their Dad or Dean. And Dean instantly hated himself for making his words sound like one. Why did he always do everything wrong???

Sam should have seen something change in Dean's face cause he immediately added: "Sorry. I understand what you mean. Don't worry. I get it. Sorry that I was too hard on you lately. I just…"

"Go get your shower, Sammy. I'll get us breakfast. And we still have a stupid spirit to deal with before we hit the road again."

With this Dean left their motel room. Sam sighed. Somehow, he was really happy that this time they were dealing with a simple salt and burn. He really doubted they would have been able to deal with anything more sophisticated right now.

_So, this wasn't my best chapter. Sorry.__ It was really difficult to write this conversation. And I still don't like it. But it's the best I could do. Hope it will get easier when they hit the road again._

_Review! Please!_


	7. Chapter 7

Disclaimer: I don't own Supernatural.

_Bea2688 – Thanks! Glad you think that it was in character. I had my doubts about that…__Thanks for pointing out mistakes. I'll correct them._

Luckily, it _was _a simple salt and burn that the boys dealt with the following night. Now Dean was once again driving and Sam was watching him intently from the corner of his eye. He didn't believe Dean's words. Well, no. He _did _believe that his brother was not trying to get himself killed. Not consciously, no. But in the right circumstances everyone is capable of a stupid sacrifice. And Dean in his current state more that anyone.

He unconsciously rubbed his temples and only then felt a pain in his head. And instantly he knew that it wasn't just a headache. His head felt like it was going to explode. He hid it in his hands.

"Sam?" distantly he heard Deans voice.

"Dean… Pull over," he mumbled, feeling the pain piercing through his head like a knife.

The car stopped. And that's when the vision came.

_A woman was standing on the bridge looking at the water. Her face was strained with tears, the pain was evident in her eyes._

"_Yes… Yes… It's my fault… All is my fault…I had no right… YES! I KNOW!" she suddenly shouted and started crying._

"_I have to pay for that. Then she'll forgive me," she whispered a couple of moments later. She stood on the railing. And then she jumped._

"Sam! Sam!" Dean had opened the passenger door and now was grabbing Sam's arms.

"Yeah… I'm here…" Sam whispered. The vision wasn't as intense as it could have been but it still left pain and exhaustion.

"Where now?" Dean sighed, still keeping his hands on Sam. And Sam was grateful for that. Visions had always left him raw and in need of physical contact even if for a few minutes.

Sam new that bridge although he had been there only once and long time ago. And he told Dean where.

"You OK?" Dean asked after a few moments of silence.

"Yeah," Sam replied hoarsely. "Let's just go."

Dean nodded and went to the driver's seat chewing his lip nervously. The Demon was the last thing he wanted to deal with right now. And Sam's visions always lead to something connected with that son of a bitch. But he knew that there was no way he could persuade Sam not to go there. And if something happened that… Well… He didn't want to even think about Dad's words. Never in his life was he killing Sam. Never. He shook his head and started the engine.

Sam gave Dean a worried look in spite of his own pain. He didn't want to drag Dean into something _this _close to demons. Dean had enough on his plate already without adding Sam's abilities to it. The story with Andy was more than enough for now. He could sense how tense Dean was. And he didn't like it. Not at all.

"So," Dean cleared his throat. "She mumbled something stupid and then jumped off the bridge?"

"Yeah," Sam nodded. "And she looked so…so lost. And miserable."

Dean glanced at Sam and whispered: "We'll save her. If we have enough time".

Sam nodded and looked at the window. The pain in his head was slowly fading away leaving the pain in his heart, confusion, exhaustion and fear.

_Sorry for a long gap between updated. Studying eats a lot of my time. _

_Please! Review!! I need your opinion!_


	8. Chapter 8

Disclaimer: I don't own Supernatural.

They reached their destination next evening and checked in the small hotel. The person who checked them in turned out to be a beautiful young girl about Sam's age. Of course, Dean started flirting with her while Sam had to carry their bags to their room. Typical Dean, Sam thought with slight irritation. Well, at least he was no longer depressed. Or it seemed so.

Twenty minutes later Dean, finally, entered heir room very very pleased with himself.

Sam looked up from his laptop and smiled. He liked this Dean better than the one he had to deal with two nights before.

"So, was it all for a stupid phone number or do we have some useful information?" he asked, smirking slightly.

Dean ignored the phone question. "Apparently, there were no deaths here lately. Strange or any at all, which is good. We are not late."

"Yeah", Sam cut in, immediately turning serious. "But it doesn't mean we are not late altogether. What I saw happened at night, which means that it might be happening even now!"

"If you don't want to be late, you'd better let me finish, Sam", Dean looked at his brother with equal seriousness. "There _is_ something strange in here. With a woman. I told Kitty, that girl, that we are writing horror books and that we are traveling from town to town. state to state looking for strange events, stories, legends, deaths, etc. So, there's a woman here. She is some sort of a art worker or something. She had always been a cheerful good-natured woman but just in to weeks she had turned into some absolutely different person. She became hysterical, started talking about some sins that she had to pay for, etc."

"And does she have any reason to behave like that?" Sam frowned.

"Kitty says no one knows for sure. She had been living in the town for 10 years now, came here and settled near the flat were Kitty's family lived. Nothing happened while she had been here. But Kitty knows nothing about her past. So…."

"Did you get her name or description?" Sam asked impatiently.

Dean smiled triumphantly: "Better. I got her name, description _and address._ And she _does _match your description."

Sam laughed. Dean really knew his job. Still, he had to check. "You sure it's her address, not Kitty's?"

Dean rolled his eyes: "Sam, I am not _that _stupid. I got both addresses, actually. But never mind."

"If you are _that _sure, we are going to pay that woman a visit right now", Sam said urgently.

"Sam! For Christ's sake! It's past midnight! She'll just throw us out!" Dean started arguing. He had been driving for almost to days without stopping as he had let Sam take the wheel only a few hours before they reached their destination. He was tired and needed sleep.

"At least, this way we'll know that she is still alive," Sam snapped heading to the door. "On second thought, I can do it alone. You need rest Dean, I understand. I'll just make sure that she's alive. Give me her name and address".

"Are you out of your mind?!" Dean said angrily. "We are going together".

"So, what's your plan psychic boy?" Dean asked, following Sam. Luckily, Kitty didn't only give Dean address but also told Dean how to get there, so the boys didn't have to invent any more lies about needing a map of the town at one in the morning.

Boys reached her flat in ten minutes due to Sam being in a hurry as Kitty was talking about twenty minutes.

"We ring the bell. Than we hide", shrugged Sam. "If she opens the door, we can go to sleep."

"And if she doesn't?" Dean eyed Sam suspiciously.

"I don't know yet", Sam spat. He was getting more and more irritated with every second. The memory of not being able to save those people the last time they met other children with strange abilities still haunted him. He couldn't fail now.

They rang the bell and quickly hid under the stairs. A couple of minutes later they heard a voice behind the door and then a tired-looking woman in a nightgown opened the door and looked around. Then she sighed and closed it.

"We can go to sleep now, right? And in the morning we'll think about a plan of action, ok?" Dean looked at Sam with concern. He knew that his brother was nervous and upset. What was worse, Dean wasn't so sure he had enough strength in himself to play the big brother role decently.

"Yeah. Yeah." Sam nodded. "That's what we do".

Next morning the boys were heading to by breakfast when Kitty, who seemed to have finished her night job and was preparing to head home, called out to Dean.

"Hey!" She came closer and lowered her voice. "You… Er… You remember Angela Clark we talked about?"

Dean nodded and she continued, lowering her voice even more. "Well… She had killed herself. This night. Jumped from the bridge. Drowned."

With that she nodded to the boys and quickly left.

Dean wave her goodbye and turned back to Sam.

"Sammy… Listen… It's not…" he started his usual mantra.

But Sam just shook him off. "Don't Dean. Just don't. I'm fine."

But Dean had no doubt that there were tears in his little brother's eyes. And God help him he didn't know how to make Sam feel better. He was barely keeping himself together even without Sam's visions and Sam's guilt. How was he supposed not to break???

'Let's have breakfast, shall we?" he said softly, gently placing a hand on Sam's shoulder.

_**Now. guys! Hit the review button. I know that I am not perfect but **__**tell me about that. Please!!! One review per chapter is just not enough for me to want to continue!**_


	9. Chapter 9

Disclaimer: I don't own Supernatural

After a having breakfast or, rather, pretending to have had one (As Sam at only a toast and despite ordering a big breakfast had just played with the food on his plate) boys decided to head to the place where the woman had drowned. It wasn't difficult. Recent suicide was the only thing people around were talking about. They didn't even need to ask and invent a reason to why they were interested in her death – eavesdropping was more than enough.

They were standing on the bridge.

"Yes" Sam muttered. "I… I saw it in my vision, Dean. This bridge".

"Yeah… Well… I sort of guessed it already", Dean spat only realising what he had said after the words were already said.

"Sorry, Sam", Dean said immediately after seeing a hurt look in his bother's eyes.

"It's okay" Sam sighed. He didn't want to argue with Dean about such a stupid thing. After all he still remembered the state his brother was in just a day ago. They didn't need a relapse.

"So, what do we do now?" Sam shifted discussion to the more or less safer grounds.

"The usual. Say we are writers. Ask about this woman", Dean shrugged.

After 4 hours of talking to different people, Dean and Sam knew no more than they knew after talking to Kitty.

"Nothing", Sam growled. "Absolutely nothing. A downright suicide. And that's it".

"Apart from the dreams she had mentioned to a waitress in a café", Dean added. "It doesn't ring a bell to you, huh?"

Sam sighed: "It does, Dean. Apart from the fact that then the victims were just told to do something. And they did it with a smile on their faces. And there were no dreams!"

"But we might as well check whether anybody's mother here had died in a fire?" Dean shrugged.

After a trip to the library archives they found…erm…nothing. Nothing in the last twenty or so years.

They were sitting in a café, angry, tired and exhausted.

"Sam, you have to eat something", Dean said for the fiftieth time in one day.

Sam just ignored him.

"Sammy, stop beating yourself about her death. It wasn't your fault!" Dean said tiredly. God, he didn't have enough strength to do it. His voice didn't carry any conviction and not because he thought the opposite of what he was saying but because he was just so tired.

"It was," Sam said matter-of-factly. "But it's not just that. Do you remember any situation like this when only one death had happened? NO! You don't. There is more to come".

So what? Dean wanted to shout but beat his tongue just in time. It meant one more vision. One more guilt on his baby brother's shoulders. One more innocent life. One more kid with abilities turned into something evil. And they didn't know were to look.

Sam closed his eyes willing himself to stay calm. He owed it to Dean. He'll stay collected no matter how scared he is of the next vision. He knew that it will come when he won't expect it. It will bring pain, guilt and exhaustion. And there was nothing he could do to prevent them from coming. There was nothing Dean could do to help him here. So, he could just as well stop putting extra weight on Dean's shoulders but think about their next move/

He opened his eyes, looked at Dean, whose worried eyes were staring at him, and gave Dean a weak smile. And that's when they overheard a conversation at a nearby table.

"Oh, you don't look so well Charlotta. Does anything bother you?" two women in there sixties were sitting at a nearby table.

One of them looked really tired and exhausted. "Like that woman who killed herself", Dean though absently.

"Oh, nothing really, Theresa. It's just the suicide of Anabelle Clark and her bahaviour in the past weeks disturbing my thoughts and sleep. That's all. It's just so unnerving to know a person for almost 10 years and then… I have no idea why she did it… And I even started having stupid dreams myself…"

Dean and Sam exchanged glances.

An hour later they returned in their motel room. And that's when the vision came. A sharp pain hit Sam's head and he got hold of the wall, slowly slipping down on the floor.

_A woman wa__s sitting in the kitchen with the knife in her hands. Tears were running down her cheeks._

"_Yes, Betsy. Yes. I am doing it for you. I should have done this a long time ago, my poor girl", and than __she slashed her throat._

Dean was sitting on the floor, hugging Sam to his chest. Again. It came again. And there was nothing he could do to help his baby brother apart from waiting until the vision stopped. Sam came to his senses but kept gripping his head for a couple of minutes afterwards. Dean stroked his hair silently. Finally, Sam moved away from Dean and got up.

"It's that woman from the café, Dean…", he whispered. "She had a calendar in the kitchen. It's tomorrow…"

_**Not the most exciting chapter, I know. Still, review!!! I was so delighted with reviews for the previous chapter!!! Keep this up, guys!**_

_adriana – Yeah. The review was annonymous. Don't worry, it doesn't matter. Thanks for reviewing!_


	10. Chapter 10

Disclaimer: I don't own Supernatural.

"We need to talk to that woman. We need to talk to her before she kills herself", Sam said urgently.

"Yeah. But we need to find out who she is first", reminded him Dean. "What do we know about her?"

"An elderly woman. Charlotta… Yeah, her name's Charlotta", Sam mumbled.

"Fine… I'll have to ask Kitty. She knows everyone here", Dean assured his brother.

"How are you going to explain her our interest in this woman?" Sam asked, massaging his temples and wincing in the process.

"I'll think about something", Dean waved his hand dismissively.

Ten minutes late Dean knew that the woman was called Charlotta Higgs. And he had her address.

"See? It wasn't difficult!" Dean told Sam proud with himself.

"Yeah. Great Dean. What did you tell her? That Mrs. Biggs is a poltergeist?" Sam smiled.

Dean laughed, glad that his Sammy was joking in spite of everything: "Sort of".

They headed to Mrs. Biggs as fast as they could. Tomorrow could have been tomorrow but they had to talk to that woman now, before there was any chance of killing herself.

They rang the several times but no one answered.

"She might just not be home", Sam mused.

"Lets go in then and check", Dean proposed. There was nothing unusual for them in breaking in the private property, after all.

"Mrs. Biggs?" Sam said loudly. No one answered and brother went further into the flat.

"I'll take rooms. And you go to the kitchen and bathroom", Dean told Sam who scowled but said nothing.

Sam went through the corridor to the bathroom that showed nothing of interest. Than he looked into the kitchen. His heart stopped.

"Sam? Hey, Sam? I think I found out who Betsy is!" Dean shouted from the living room. When Sam didn't reply, Dean went to the kitchen.

"Sam, what the hell…", Dean cut himself when he looked at the kitchen table. Mrs. Biggs was sitting by the table. Dead. Her throat was slashed. The knife was lying on the floor nearby.

"But… But you said that…", Dean's voice trailed away, seeing the look on Sam's face. It was the look of horror, pain and confusion.

"I don't know…", Sam look at the calendar. "It wasn't this date in the vision. It was tomorrow. It really was, Dean!"

"Fine. We'll discuss it later. I'll wipe out our fingerprints. Don't touch anything here!" Dean ordered.

They returned to the motel half an hour later, confused and almost scared.

"You said you found out who Betty was", Sam looked at his brother inquiringly.

"Betty is or was her daughter", Dean replied. "She has a photograph in the living room".

"Dean they both were talking about faults and forgiveness… Could it mean anything?" Sam frowned. "Right. Lets look there names on the Internet".

Sam took his laptop and started research. Dean lied down on hid back and closed his eyes. He was tired and nervous. He couldn't understand why Sam's vision turned out wrong. It had never happened before. Soon Dean drifted into heavy sleep.

_He saw his father, John Winchester. He was standing in front of him, looking very angry. _

"_Dad?" Dean asked hesitantly. He knew perfectly well that his father was dead. But he looked very alive and perfectly healthy right now._

"_Dad?" Dean repeated, hoping that his father somehow managed to come back. That…_

"_It's all your fault!" his father said suddenly in his most authoritive tone. "I am dead because of you!"_

"_Dead… I… I know that… I am sorry… You shouldn't have given your life in exchange for mine…", Dean whispered desperately. _

"_But I did… I did. I did because you begged me not to let you die!" John continued. "Bit it doesn't change the fact that it's YOUR fault I am in Hell now!"_

"_Dad… Please", his father's eyes were cold, angry and disdainful._

"_I will never forgive you, Dean!" his father bellowed at him_

"_Dad! NO! DAD!" Dean screamed._

"Dean! You're dreaming. Please. Wake up", Sam pulled Dean from his nightmare. He looked worried but calm. Dean sight and nodded. Just a dream/ A stupid dream. It was just too real this time.

"Mind telling me what it was about?" Sam asked, looking at Dean carefully.

Dean shook his head: "Nothing interesting, Sammy. Trust me".

Sam rolled his eyes: "Yeah. Interesting isn't the right word as you were screaming for dead".

"Sam! Don't Please", Dean couldn't relieve any of it right now. He couldn't let himself break down again after such a short time. Right now they had work to so.

Sam didn't look happy but didn't press any longer.

"I found some things about those women", he turned to the screen. Our first woman had a sister. She died twelve years ago. A car crash. Put woman was driving. It wasn't her fault. A car crashed into there car. That driver was drunk. Mrs. Biggs was more difficult as those things are not covered in the papers, not widely anyway. She had a daughter. She was seven when she died. That was almost thirty years ago. Some burglar broke into their house at night. The girl woke up, saw a stranger in her room and started to scream. He shot her. Just an unfortunate accident. Mrs. Biggs had no say in the matter. They slept in different rooms. She had heard Betsy scream but didn't get there in time. It was a matter of seconds".

"So, you are telling me that those women killed themselves for the things they weren't guilty of years after the unfortunate accidents happened?" Dean raised his eyebrows.

"Yeah. That' what I am telling you", Sam sight.

"They had strange dreams before they killed themselves", Dean continued.

"Yes. Looks like someone was **sending **them those dreams. Reminding them and making them feel guilty", Sam though.

'But why these people exactly? And how head the person found all this information about them?" Dean thought.

Sam shrugged: "Well, either the Demon is informing him as he did with Andy's brother or our killer knew were to look. May be, he knew people well enough. Or he doesn't need to know anything exactly, just needs to put an impulse in person's head and hope that he has some dirty secret in his past".

_**Hi! I am back! The updated had been somewhat sporadic but I am hoping to finish this story in two or three chapters. So, it's not much left. Thanks to those who still stick with me!**_


	11. Chapter 11

Disclaimer: I don't own Supernatural.

"Dean?" Sam was looking at his brother, frowning.

"What?" Dean raised an eyebrow.

"You know… Mmmm…. I mean…?" Sam had trouble finding the right words.

"What, Sam!" Dean almost barked. He was tired, worried about Sam and his vision that gave wrong information this time, and, as if this wasn't enough, that dream wasn't getting out of his head. Usually he could put his guilt in the back of mind during the hunt. But this time… He felt like it was actually heavily weighting on him, waiting for him to do something. So, he almost took his frustration out on Sam.

"Well, all this guilt thing… I mean… You're a perfect target for whatever it is", Sam finally stopped beating about the bush.

Dean laughed: "Nah… No, Sammy. I'm not".

Sam rolled his eyes.

"No, seriously. I'm not cause, you know, those people _**weren't **_guilty. As for me… I _**am **_guilty… So…", Dean let out an uneasy laugh.

"Dean…", Sam muttered disapprovingly.

"Sam. I told you to stop already!" Dean groaned.

"Fine. I stop", Sam sight. "I thought about my vision. I think I have an idea how it turned out wrong…".

"How?" Dean looked at Sam intently.

"Well… As _**we **_can change future if we know about it, then anybody else _**might be able**_to do that, if they know about it", Sam started saying.

Dean interrupted him: "You mean, there's some other psychic with visions?"

Sam nodded: "That's one possibility. Another one is that somebody knew about me having visions, knew about us here…".

"I don't get you, Sam", Dean shook his head. "The only person who knew about our visit to Mrs. Biggs was Kitty".

"Yeah. Dean. I might be a coincidence. But she also knew about our in the other woman. Righ?" Sam pressed on.

"Sam. That's stupid. Why would she. I mean. She's a nice girl and all", Dean disagreed.

"Yeah. Andy's brother seemed an OK guy too. Max looked a little unstable but who would have thought!" Sam replied irritated.

"Sam, it's even less than a guess. It's I don't know what it is…", Dean pursed hid lips. Kitty was _**nice **_and_** sexy**_. He had plans to ask her somewhere out after the hunt. There was just no reason to think…

"Dean. I don't want to say that she actually _**is **_our person. But there _**is **_a possibility that it is so. So, may be you'll, I don't know, at least check her out a bit", Sam proposed with a slight smile.

"Fine. Fine. I'll phone her and ask her out!" Dean reluctantly agreed.

"Hi, Kitty! I was wondering, are you busy tomorrow? Oh, well, and in the evening? How about a café or a movie?" after several more exchanges Dean agreed to meet Kitty at five p.m. and go the local cinema and after that do something else.

"Dean, just be careful, OK?" Sam frowned at his brother. "She might be just a nice girl. But if she isn't"

"Sam. I am sure she is not. So, you'd better think of a way to find out who in this town is another vision-boy or girl!" Dean replied with a smirk.

_**Hi! I am back. Sorry, for the wait but I had a lot of things going on in real life. Also I sort of lost interest in this story. But, don't **__**worry. I hate it when people leave WIPs and disappear. So, I'll do my best not to do that to my readers and finish this story. Just keep in mind that it might take time.**_

_**And, yes. Please, review! I know it's not my best chapter…. Well, tell me that, at least! wink**_


	12. Chapter 12

Disclaimer: I don't own Supernatural.

"Hey, Kitty!" Dean smiled, waving at her.

"Hi, Dean! Sorry, I am a little bit late. Had a quarrel with my sister. She thinks that meeting with guys I barely know is a very bad idea!" she smiled apologetically.

"Oh. Don't worry. What a dragon do you have for a sister?" he laughed.

"She's not a dragon", Kitty laughed shaking her head. "She's just worried and all. She loves me too much. She is two years older than me and she feels responsible. Mum was always telling her to keep an eye on me when I was little. Mum stopped doing that a long time ago but my sister's still on it".

The movie turned out to be detective story.

"Well, would your sister approve of this movie?" Dean joked.

"My sister wouldn't have liked the way it ended", Kitty laughed when the movie finished.

"Why, for God's sake?" Dean rolled his eyes.

"Well, she'd say that the main character is a bad guy, that he's girlfriend ended up in prison because of him… Stuff like that. She'd say that he, at least, should feel guilty about it", Kitty replied with a shrug.

"Well, he didn't have a say in the matter", Dean frowned.

"My sister is very idealistic", Kitty explained.

Dean mentally frowned. An a idealistic sister who thinks that guilt is good? That had to be put in consideration.

"Em. What did you tell her about me, by the way?" he asked as casually as he could.

"Not much", Kitty shrugged. "I told her what you told me about your job."

"Oh, right", He smiled.

"Actually, I phoned her after I met you in the hotel. I was so excited about your job", she added. "Though, unfortunately, it didn't excite her in the least".

Dean laughed but said nothing. It meant that there was one more person who knew about there interest in those deaths.

The rest of the evening went smoothly. They dined at a café, then went for a walk, and at about 11 in the evening Dean walked Kitty home.

It was Kitty's mother who opened the door, so Dean didn't get a chance to see Kitty's sister, Deborah.

_**Well, back again with a very short chapter… Guys, you know, I need reviews!**_


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